


In the Snowy Night

by hilaryfaye



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Multi, OT3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-27 00:28:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/656020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hilaryfaye/pseuds/hilaryfaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He loved their wildness, even if it came in different ways. Jack was a sudden snowstorm that came without warning, and Pitch a simmering volcano of tangled desires. They were Sandy’s fire and ice, his beautiful extremes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Snowy Night

**Sandy**

The first time Sandy had been awake while both of them slept, he watched their dreams. Sandy didn’t shape all the dreams--that would have been exhausting even for him--so watching them gave him something like insight.

Jack’s dreams were usually happy, but that night they took a bittersweet turn. He dreamed of his sister, and the day that he saved her. Sandy could sense his relief at having saved his sister, and the burst of adrenaline and fear as the ice broke beneath Jack and he fell into the darkness. Sandy stroked the sleeping Guardian’s hair, chasing away the fear and letting him return to good dreams. Jack sighed, kicking the blankets away as he always did.

Sandy smiled and kissed Jack’s forehead, watching him dream of sudden snow flurries. The Sandman turned to Pitch, who at the very best slept fitfully.

Pitch’s dream, incidentally, happened to be about Jack.

It was the day they ended up in the middle of nowhere, and Pitch made his offer to Jack. Only this time, what Pitch said was just a little different. We don’t have to be alone.

Sandy watched the dream a little sadly. Pitch curled, his hands digging into the pillow as if by crushing it he might relieve the pain of the memory.

Sandy bent, stroking Pitch’s cheek. He cast some of his dream sand, reminding Pitch that he wasn’t alone anymore. Slowly, Pitch’s death grip on the pillow relaxed. Sandy ran his small hands through the black feathers of Pitch’s hair.

He did love these two dearly.

He loved their wildness, even if it came in different ways. Jack was a sudden snowstorm that came without warning, and Pitch a simmering volcano of tangled desires. They were Sandy’s fire and ice, his beautiful extremes.

It was just as well that Sandy couldn’t speak, he didn’t think he could ever fully explain.

Jack and Pitch bickered sometimes, of course, and the others wondered how Sandy could deal with them. Sandy just smiled.

Because it was moments like these that Sandy adored them for. The moment where in his sleep, Pitch reached for Sandy.

Or the moment where Jack shifted just a bit closer, nuzzling his head against Sandy’s side.

It was the moments when Pitch looked over from quiet brooding and mussed Sandy’s hair, with nothing more than a small smile for explanation,

It was when Jack grew restless and leapt into the wind, laughing as he was carried off into the sky.

Or when the two of them smiled at each other.

It was a thousand tiny things, little grains of sand that wove themselves into happy dreams.

Sandy settled in against the pillows, closing his eyes with a smile.

It was because with them on either side of him, Sandy felt his heart bursting.

 

**Jack**

Jack woke with his legs all tangled in Pitch’s, and his head against Sandy’s belly. Jack smiled to himself, wriggling out of the bed as best he could without disturbing them.

It wasn’t often they all slept at the same time. Jack mostly catnapped whenever and wherever, and Pitch and Sandy both kept mostly to the night.

Sometimes Jack would just find them curled up in the middle of the day, and he would find a way to fit in while he dozed.

Jack waited there a little while, smiling to himself.

Pitch had an arm wrapped around Sandy, his cheek nestled against Sandy’s hair. For a guy who liked to say he was so tough and scary, Pitch was a hell of a cuddler.

It was loads of fun to go out with them at night, when they went to work. Jack had always loved Sandy’s dreams, and sometimes Pitch chased him through the dark, catching Jack when he least expected it. If he got caught, he got a kiss.

Jack had gotten better at understanding Sandy’s sand pictures. Pitch had figured it out a lot quicker than he had, but once Jack had a handle on the idea, he learned.

There was a lot to unravel, with Pitch and Sandy. They were opposites and yet alike, Jack didn’t quite know how to explain it.

Pitch stirred a bit pulling his knees up to nearly his chest. Jack wondered if he’d been dreaming about That Day again. Jack knew he dreamed about it a lot, Pitch just didn’t like to admit it.

Jack was getting restless, he wanted to take off again, but he didn’t want to leave without some kind of quick goodbye.

He climbed back onto the bed, nipping at Pitch’s neck and ear. Pitch blinked and squinted at Jack, then groaned. “Oh, what do you want?” He pushed Jack’s face away with his entire hand.

Jack laughed, pushing the hand away and diving back down to steal a kiss. “Afternoon, Sleeping Beauty.”

Pitch mumbled something incoherent and tried to go back to sleep. Jack grinned and turned his attention to Sandy, kissing his face until Sandy blinked slowly awake. Sandy smiled sleepily and accepted Jack’s kiss before rolling over to tuck his head against Pitch’s chest.

Jack bounded to the window, leaping out into the wind. Spring wasn’t here yet--he could still have a bit of fun with a snow day.

The sun crept over the horizon and the world glittered like a crystal wherever Jack Frost went. He wondered how many kids Sandy had had dreaming of snow days. Or how many subtly slipped nightmares Pitch had given to keep them well away from thin ice...

Well, Jack would deliver.

The winter spirit could rarely stand to linger long in one place. Perhaps it wasn’t so odd that he’d fallen for Pitch and Sandy, who reached every corner of the world every night.

At any given time, the world was theirs.

Jack admired his handiwork from the bare branches of an oak tree as a group of kids were busy building snow forts for what was promising to be a snowball fight of epic proportions.

This, Jack thought, was what made it worth being alive.

****

**Pitch**

Pitch slipped through the darkened forest, listening carefully. Jack was terrible at hiding in the dark, where his white hair made him stand out like a candle flame--but the snow gave him an added advantage.

Pitch stepped forward, and the ice crunched beneath his feet.

The forest suddenly went still.

Jack was somewhere nearby.

He heard a giggle. Pitch smiled and turned his head upwards, gold eyes glittering in the moonlight. Jack was in the uppermost branches of a fir tree, trying very hard not to move.

Pitch swirled through the branches, catching the Guardian by the ankle just as he tried to escape.

“Ah, ah,” he said, waving a finger at Jack. “Not so fast.”

Jack grinned, letting Pitch pull him back for a kiss. “Bet you can’t catch me twice,” Jack challenged.

“Don’t you think I have better things to be doing?” Pitch murmured, with a teasing smirk.

A ribbon of gold sand twisted through the trees to remind them that night was not so very long. Pitch slipped through the shadows, looking for those who needed just a little scare to keep them out of the dark.

Pitch knew there were worse things out there than Nightmares. A little fear would keep those children safe at home, out of the way of the things that crept in the night.

The town wasn’t very big, but enough so that he was contentedly busy.

Jack raced through the streets, covering everything with a light snow. Pitch rolled his eyes with a small smile, and turned down a dark street, not expecting to find much.

He nearly tripped over someone.

Pitch paused, intending to scare the girl and send her on her way home... but he realized rather quickly she didn’t have one to go to.

He hesitated, and looked up at Sandy. “Sanderson,” he called.

This girl needed a good dream more than most. She was probably scared enough.

Even when he ventured out with Jack and Sandy, Pitch avoided looking at the moon. He could feel it watching him, weighing his past against his present. Jack tried to claim that surely MiM could see that things were different now, but Pitch wasn’t as certain.

Nor was he convinced he wanted that certainty.

Perhaps it was best if he kept watching his step, keeping to the places where he passed unnoticed, and not drawing attention to himself.

There was a day, Pitch thought, when he didn’t have to avoid stares.

As if sensing his discontent, Sandy followed Pitch, wrapping his arms around Pitch’s neck from behind him.

Pitch turned his head to smile at Sandy, who placed a soft kiss on the end of his nose.

All things considered, Pitch could say he was happy.


End file.
